its nearly time for wrapping things up for this christmas in scotland, im coming to terms with having no sleep and all ideas.
projectwise it keeps on shaping. i went to the tackshop i used to work in, and bought the T touch textbook for dressage. the rest of my christmas money is going towards the deposit for my Ttouch course in March. I decided, that im not just doing it so that humans may have opportunity to gain inner peace, but also that a different perspective towards horses may develop. and i am coming to believe that this might be through using the Ttouch technique (founded by Linda Tellington Jones, you can find more information on the TtouchUK website.) The training involves six days, and six evenings camping. which im sure will bring its own story in 2014.
Theres a dutch song, i've posted below in earlier blogs .Spijt. it translates to Sorrow. Sorry. and as time in 2013 draws in, its time to draw some lines. to prepare for the new year coming. Theres been some frienships this year that really gave feeling of disappointment. To be a vehicle for passing out love, and love without expectation, its bloody difficult, and near impossible. and the line draw is that i dont have to hold that weight of disappointment, and the sooner i can draw the line and let it go, the better i will feel. giving care towards others is fine, but thats not to say that they will even recognise it, or respect it, or even carry it forward. and thats ok, now thats getting to be ok. i'm not sorry that i showed care and consideration, and i'm not sorry i met those people on my path, and im now especially not sorry i've drawn a line and walking away from it. someone once said that if you dont like the people that you are attracting into your life, then its time to change something in yourself. and thats what i've been recognising this year. In caring for others this year, i've been looking away too much in what needs encouraging and feeding in my own life. and not just the project.
I met a friend in the last few days, her mother had died in the last few months. and her husband had one immense conclusion from it. if you should die tomorrow, the important thing is that you have lived life to the best standards that you can, and those standards can only be set by you. not ever by anyone elses expectations.
The next morning, i met another friend, who was absolutely queen of her own. queen of her own life. she has the most beautiful child that i have ever met (i work with many beautiful children, but this truly is an extra ordinarily beautiful soul). Queen of her own, well she was happy where she was, and in control of where she was. she chose to have a child, and at a time when she had travelled where she wanted to, had created a career that she had wanted, and now mastered it in being able to be strong in her boundaries in parenting her child. I admired seeing this all within a coffee catchup. if life graces me with two or three more years (one can never be sure). this is a situation that i would like to be in. Queen of my own.
" this is for the black on my fist, this is for the tat on my wrist, this is for the S in my lisp this is for my beating heart on the chest,on the left, yes, life ain't for the swift, but for those who can endure so I hold it with two hands and more, and I answer every time it is calling. and you tell it in my aura, you can tell I'm a soldier, you can see the strength in my eyes, and I hope you can see the strength in my vibe cause sometimes I get tired cause its hard out here.
Spinnin by Speech Debelle
its really a strong belief with me that God turned to Jesus and Mohamed one day and said to the affect, "Guys, you did good, honestly you did good, but theres all these people that are just not paying attention, and I'm going to have to work on them in a different way, or different ways.." this is not a precise dialogue, i wasn't there at the time. but its my heavy handed supposition. in other words, it goes like so... if all the religious knowledge evaporated from being, and all the religious books were burnt. if there is a living, affective god/life/love/whatever you want to call it, surely he wouldn't lie redundant with all ties cut, he would surely want to make at least an attempt to connect with his creation. its just a suggestion. and its just a suggestion that there is new movement of people, affecting others through their spoken word. through their art. through their music. if god is love, and love exists in different mediums, then god exists through different mediums, not just one book.
i already introduced you to one creative friends through spoken word. the last thing i talked to him about was whether pain could be eliminated through only belief. he said yes it was possible to reason out pain. he said that i could reason it by saying "pain..i have learnt my lesson". but i hadn't learnt any lesson yet, really i just wanted to return to normal life. i wanted to be able to go to work, i wanted t be able to cycle home in the summer evenings. that particular week had been planned for new work, and new projects to begin, and instead i could only sit, rest and dwell in a haze of pain killers.
when my knee was broken in Breda., Marije kicked my ass for venturing to the shops, in town, from the country, via a few snow drifts, with crutches. And this time wasn't as bad. This time, because it was a good idea, and a nice idea of seeing a talented group of people perform at their best. The theatre was performed at the Oerol festival, on the island of Terschelling. Its a really cool festival where theatre is inspired by it's location.
As I left the house, David's old mix came on. I still find it one of his best mixes, some of the tunes may have aged, but bittersweet feelings through it, make it heartfelt and true in vibe. it was made in memory of his mama. and it gives me strength.
When I stepped off the boat, I wasn't really feeling the inspiration. Wind and rain are my nemesis, which is why I ran away from Scotland. A friend had cancelled last minute, and normally I'd enjoy the flying solo. but not with shit weather. when the bus arrived, I asked him to drop me off in the town where I could collect the tickets. he shouted the stop. but it turned to be a stop too early. I asked the man in a shop for directions
"oh back to the main road and its ten minutes by bike.."
".. and with crutches?" asks I.
It took rather longer than five minutes, and because I'm not good at gauging my own pain sometimes, there is a moment where it all of a sudden hits. normally with a good grain of stupid stubbornness. and to make sure that I knew my way. foolproof. I asked the man at the ticket office where I should go, and what I could do with my friends extra ticket.
"well perhaps you can go up those stairs and make a suggestion to the deejay.."he proposes.
"..I have crutches." says I.
"...and for the location... its easy, you go to location 22... its ten minutes by bike.."
"..and with crutches?" asks I.
I actually made good time. and as I walked through the country roads, birds would chorus, "there will be blessing, there will be blessing.." and I blank it out. because I need to concentrate on where I'm going. and I haven't to trust that instinct, when I'm in softer mind, then I could feel thought or intention from horses mainly, but they are not reliable, and include ego, and their own lessons to learn. and so despite symbolism from birds before, which has saved me from difficult situations, I am still full of doubt. heavy doubt.
and it grew to be angry doubt. I stood in line at the location, and double checked with the family in front as to whether it was the right location. and it wasn't. the correct location was 45 minutes back into the town. it sunk like lead balloon. I stood for a minute and worked out my choices. I could either go back to the festival grounds, find the boy, and beat him up with my crutches. a two crutch wallop would certainly ease frustration. the second choice was to onwards, though when you're in the middle of nowhere, that is the only choice really.
by this point I was getting tired and sore, and frustrated. and angry with god. if everything happens for a reason, I am failing to see any sensible reason at the moment goddygod. this is not funny anymore.
I got to the location 15 minutes before the end of the play. just tired, and just exasperated at the whole fucking situation. and then there were two ladies watching from the gate. one, who reminded me of David's mum, took one look and asked me to tell her what was wrong, and then every tear of tiredness and frustration came.
as the crowd stood in ovation, the manager came to us, and invited us to dance with crowd. the lady talked the manager, and the manager gave me a stool. and above a seagull soared "you will be blessed, dry your eyes". The manager was lovely, and invited for dinner and to watch the following performance.
The weather worked with the performance. it was based on rites of passage, and change in bonds of friendship to the point of separation. The weather fluxed between scenes, from mild wind, to sea squall. and at the point of climax, Paulien stepped forward and looked to the sky before dropping to the ground and screaming. and in that first moment, as she looked up to sky, the sun broke through almost to highlight beauty and struggle. It was definitely the first time that day I had admired the weather.
Reaching mainland again, I waited on the bus back to Amsterdam. and just before the bus departed, the lady who stood next to the lady who had listened sat beside me on the bus. and pointed out that her friend was outside, through smiles and thumbs up gestures I was able to signal that a lovely evening had been had due to her encouragement. the stitch and weave of connection had brought priceless blessing.
the last couple of weeks in this month came with huge blessings, and submersion into the shadows. friends asked me to look after their apartment whilst they were on honeymoon. moving from a small room to small apartment was bliss, time to be me, time to process me.
I am high sensitive, and I am softened and strengthened by music, and I am supported by nature, and I am open to feeling things in great measures. someones progression in life can give so much rejoice, yet on the other hand, listening to bitterness, fear, division can send me into a whirlpool into which only which surprise encounters can anchor me. each time regaining balance is an experiment.
I know triggers that I should avoid. but sometimes, if I issue needs to be talked about. there appeared a link on facebook via the guardian. on one hand I knew I should avoid because of my own mental health repercussions, on the other hand it was more important for it to be shared and talked about. The link below is challenging to watch, but in honour of those who suffer torture, or post traumatic stress disorder, or secondary post traumatic stress disorder, I thought it was important to watch it all. for they don't have a choice as to long they endure it, even after the events.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Exposure to a stressful event or situation (either short or long lasting) of exceptionally threatening or catastrophic nature, which is likely to cause pervasive distress in almost anyone.
Persistent remembering or "reliving" the stressor by intrusive flash backs, vivid memories, recurring dreams, or by experiencing distress when exposed to circumstances resembling or associated with the stressor.
Actual or preferred avoidance of circumstances resembling or associated with the stressor (not present before exposure to the stressor).
Either (1) or (2):
Inability to recall, either partially or completely, some important aspects of the period of exposure to the stressor
Persistent symptoms of increased psychological sensitivity and arousal (not present before exposure to the stressor) shown by any two of the following:
difficulty in falling or staying asleep;
irritability or outbursts of anger;
difficulty in concentrating;
hyper-vigilance;
exaggerated startle response
This link features Def mos undergoing force feeding as subjected to those prisoners who are now in the midst of trying to practise Ramadan whilst imprisoned on Guantanamo bay.
I cannot fathom why this is being allowed to happen in a land who boasts democracy, honour and justice.
that's my rationale view, my emotional view overloads and overwhelms. it bases foundation nine years ago, in protective love to a would have been husband, to a would have been papa to the unborn child who whispered three months in..mummy it's just not the right time. To delve more into this, is not my meaning, his story and our story for the main part rests in peace, and wont be shared on this blog. my experience of secondary post traumatic stress disorder has been the following.
uncontrollable distress, heavy grief, helpless feelings of isolation
eagerness to walk on eggshells. to make situations as easy as possible for him.
ambivalence to the rest of the world
sleep patterns disturbed, putting off bedtime because you know you cant sleep without crying for the whole situation.
chest pains and headaches.
and you become more cautious as to what movies you watch, and which may include triggers.
and you escape into music.
, secondary post traumatic stress disorder is not officially recognised but there are websites to counsel I believe such as. but I am not a veterinary wife, and I have pushed on in my own way. life has given opportunities for me to heal, but also leaves heavy and oppressive reminders from time to time. it is not easy to watch the link bu I hope that you gain insight in measuring your own feelings and reaction to such violation..
This trigger in a week where a lot of things felt like they were falling apart. I've mentioned the support of brothers before, and when that support and friendship changes and backfires without reasonable discussion its an exasperating and sad feeling. I understand reasons why things have to be and are to be, but that does not mean that it heavy feeling followed by resignation, and eventually strange sense of peace that god/life/love has its reasoning's. but these take time to settle, and in losing an anchor of friendship, its distressing and disorientating.
High sensitive people are equipped with different skills. In Breda, Zussie could tell when a horse was not well or sick far before he showed any symptoms. a habit of mine seems to be helping people make to make connections. and these connections go towards creating greater things. it is a nice feeling to see creative people connect, but part of my learning in this is to "let go", I am simply there to introduce, and let them do their thing. but sometimes I can short circuit, and it happened in the week where secondary ptsd kicked in, and I lost a good friend.
My boss chatted with me that I do have talent, but aswell as enjoying the sunshine, sometimes we have to fall in the shadows. if its a hot day of sunshine, shadows can bring relief, but my shadows go to excess, almost to disconnect again, and I to re-evaluate how I open I want to be? are the highs worth the very lows? how will I handle it the next time someone I connect disappoints or hurts me? should I expect that good inspiring moments are balanced with despair, and lets describe it as hard drive crash. can I not reboot and prevent falling deep in shadows? or should I resign that for months of uninterrupted coolness, I can expect a week or two in order to reboot. in practical assessment of time, we are looking three days to spiral, one evening to crash, and two to three days of hangover and adjustment. that's almost a working week.
and so Saturday I went to the Kwaku festival in south Amsterdam. I sat beside the stage,a little boy talked to me about numbers. when he found out that numbers are not my strong point. he gave me valuable advice.
"if you buy something for 4 euros, and you give the man 5 euros, you get 1 euro back"
"I think I will need you as an accountant for my shopping" says I.
when life get so complicated? I stood in the audience, hoping that music would be the complete anchor. it turned out not to be. and it brought me disappointment, not in the music, but that my whirlpool of disconnected feeling was getting deeper.
and as I stood feeling completely overwhelmed in shadows, and for beautiful space in time, Sarah-Jane sang from the stage. giving me new sensation and contrast. It seemed to be this time standing in the shadows allowed me to be lot more sensitive to other peoples creativity and sunshine. her first song of energy which nearly blew me away. third song, was like that moment of sunshine through the dark clouds. which gave hope. music is love. it supports, it carries, and in encourages. and it reminds me to hold on. this was one of the songs which brought emotion to my eyes. complete love. just as Paulien in the theatre had caught sight of sunlight before her crash. music gave me a shot of sunlight through the clouds.
You can follow the link here to Fade Away by Sarah-Jane and the Xperience at www.sarahjanemusiq.com, i hope that you can take time to look now at her page. if you scroll down, the first song that appears is Fade Away, press play, put the volume up, close your eyes and listen. I put music through the blogs not only out of interest, but also to help portray the feeling and tone of what i am going through. so for this tact, i would really appreciate it if you follow through on this part of the journey. pleasethankyoutaaa.
More happenings can be found on her facebook page - SarahJaneMusiq
as I walked home from the festival, a guy passed me by and asked if I was tired. I've stopped walking with crutches, but my foot is still sore, and frustrating that I am not able to walk at decent pace.
"no I'm not tired. this knee is fucked, and my other foot is very sore".
"wat zielig ben jij."
Fuck no. I am not to be pitied. and instead of taking the train, I aimed to walk home.
using money on Amsterdam public transport is like pissing money away in the wind. despite having scorned at the birds, their intentions shone through. don't walk, use the money to look after yourself, have faith that you will be provided for. I can try to relax into that knowledge, but the insecurity of not knowing how finance will secure the health care I need, causes a nagging stress, and the reminder that my cash flow is insecure can pull the carpet from below my feet. and that feeling is a nemesis which takes effort to over-ride. what I can do is place hope that finances will become more secure, my prayer is that it secures in the quickest time possible. I feel itchy in frustration, and it rolls me over in stinging nettles.
today though, I cycled the first time in a week, and I processed my fears of feeling broken through lack of finance, and division of friendships. and as I cycled past the lake, the sunset shone through the clouds. they say every cloud has a silver lining, but not always, this time was gold lining on pink sky. life has beautiful plans, and if I roll with it, it will give me more insight. and I hope that day of feeling peaceful comes again soon.
the world keeps spinning, changing the lives of people in it, nobody knows where it will take us, but i hope it gets better better better....
...music is healing.. i love the feeling, one day all people ... will be all equal until that day comes... i'll just keep singing... (Spinnin- Speech Debelle )
The swifts were spanning the blue skies today. that's something I like about the Netherlands, is the full spanning of skies. People often ask me why I live in Holland, and a big part of the answer is that you can see a full horizon of skies. The scenery in Scotland can be beautiful and mystic, but its also darker in hues, and where there are hills, it takes part of the skyline away. sometimes stunning beauty, sometimes oppressive, particularly if I want an open feel of outlook. During Breda summers, I have a romantic notion that Breda has the best skies, and I state justly so, because they are only touched by colours of the sunset. Now that I live close to one of the most famous airports in the world, flight paths imprint mans etcha-sketched thumbprint onto something naturally beautiful.
Actual Breda sunset.
Where as in Holland, the swifts seemed to stretch their wings in the expanse. In Sicily the swifts showed phenomenal aerodynamics. I sat with an orange juice in early morning, before rush hour on the ground began, rush hour in the air saw swifts darting, turning, gliding between the buildings, swooping towards the depths of pavements, sharp turns through alleyways, and soaring back into the skies. it was amazing to see. and it was nice to see nature intertwine so eloquently with what man has created. Rush hour in Palermo is also something phenomenal to experience, in fact not just at rush hour! to say its a different mentality, the tempo is very different to what you experience in other countries, and yet there can be kindness found in it. Mum said at one point that she had to remember, that scooters sounding there horns, is not out of rudeness, or that they might be upset, but more that they let you know that they are coming - which is handy. Whereas cyclists in Holland are treated like sacred cows, in Palermo, its the pedestrians who are given ultimate respect, lanes of rushing traffic will stop, or at least plan to avoid you as you walk across the road. Here's an example of tempo, Palermo traffic style..
My sister has a variety of theories. She has a love of Palermo, and that nature is beginning to take over where man is failing. Its not that Sicilians are failing, if anything I like the priorities that they make in life. if you take, lets say an industrious viewpoint, then Sicily is financially lacking, due to debts from war, corruption, and the current crisis. but from a different view, the vibe and soul in Palermo is warm and glowing. Family, Food, Fashion, Coffee and Ice cream (current trend is an ice cream brioche!).
The birth of my niece was really a time for family to connect. but this time the connection was slightly different, my sister, in recovery from pregnancy, lacked buzz and opinion. on other occasions, she would have action packed days planned so that we could fully get to know the city that she's made her home. But instead, each day, she gave my dad a destination that she would like me and my brother to see. It was nice to see my parents adapting to a different culture. new language, new pace, adapting in their 50's and 60's takes some doing. They should have seen it coming though. my mum is not really worried what the Jones's think. (except when my sister wore neon "anti cool" waterproofs to a family walk, that time is the only time mum thought best to leave by the back gate, instead of promenade up the street). And only one time of frustration from a conversation was re told.
"and she said... oh I just think its funny, that one sons married his high school sweetheart.. and both my daughters are marrying, and have mortgages.. all my children are so settled"
"..and what was I to say.." says mother.."..well my oldest is head over heals in love with a refugee, my second oldest is running around South America with a philandering latino, and my youngest.. well he's bringing back samples of Perth night life.."
That was said with a lot of tongue in cheek. there is a lot of tongue in cheek within my family, and its fun. walking along the street with my brother, it fell half into enjoying company, and a small part remembering old ways. and so this time I thought I might try to carefully amend bad habits..
"you know Fiona in high school used to spit all the time... but then a boy told her if we all spat on the street at the same time... we'd all be swimming in it."
"that's probably true Nic. but if we all held hands at the same time, its a nice idea, but no one would get anywhere would they? we'd be stuck in a circle all day..... Shall we go for a coffee?"
It was good having my brother there, he really took attitude of holiday. I had some moments of being overwhelmed sensitive wise, but he set the tone of holiday, and after taking 5 minutes to work through the buzz and tears of "it feels like too much is going on today", I could get back into the holiday vibe. I've read a lot from the sensitives-forum, and I get the sense that they crumble, hide and take offence with challenges to their comfort. If I didn't ride the wave and do it anyway, I would have been sitting on one of the most beautiful 30's style beaches I've ever seen. Advice to HSP, whilst self-compassion is needed, I do think to work through the emotions and experience life is very important to try.
So Pip sat on the sofa, "I want you to go see Monreale"
"Monreale is like nothing you will have ever seen, if you're willing.." Dad said, as we turned up the hairpin bend. We'd taken two buses already, the blessing about not really knowing where you are going is that you find small parts of coolness. we found a building with amazing courtyard, and to the side of the courtyard was an art exhibition ( I'm sure the "lostness" of it all was inspired by Van Gogh. Max once thought a guardian angel of hers was Marilyn Monroe, it seems I'm more guided by an erratic artist with passion for nature. the grass is always greener.) So the gallery was celebrating the work of Mimmo Germana, who's work celebrated the strength and colour of the mediteranean, which was hugely evident looking around. He also was described to be fiercely influenced in portraying human relation to environment.
anyway back to the hairpin bend. it was the most challenging hairpin bend I have walked around, for the following reasons.
my brother took hold of the fence, shaking it.. "I think theres been an accident here.."
below the fence was the roof of a house embedded into the rock,
the height of the house spanned the gradient of the hairpin bend
As my brother shook the fence, a helicopter flew BELOW us in the valley.
I have never ever had vertigo in my life until then.
"lets just keep going" says I.
as we got halfway along the straight, my brother and dad started admitting to themselves that this was actually quite a mission. And as it was said, two elderly somethings ran past us on the steep slope. on return, Mum was upset that we did not see the mosaic work depicting different bible stories, whilst the big lights were on to highlight them. I was just happy we saw the place in daylight.
Cefalu
"Its a really good idea if you go to Cefalu". It was the first time that week that mum came off duty to have an afternoon with us. My sister had one appointment, so mum would leave after she came back.
So my dad, brother and I set towards the bus station. Dad had conversation with his new friend, the bus ticket guy, who thought dads Italian was really improving.
We caught the bus which weaved in and out of the Palermo streets, and in one instant thought we should get off that bus. and when we did, he just stood, maybe to get his bearings... maybe not. that's the frustrating part, is that there's no communication until he's certainly fathomed his answer. during that time, the child within feels her brain turn to marshmallow, and a desire to stick a finger in her eye and swirl that marshmallow around a bit.
"Dad. do. you. know where we are? how long is it to the station?"
"ohhhh ten minutes.." and after a second reaffirming glance. ".. or twenty.."
the lesson is that it takes time and patience to travel around Sicily, plan for one or two things a day, and enjoy the journey getting there. the second part of the lesson, is that it takes even more time and more patience to travel around Sicily with dad.
So we took a left, and found ourselves in a nice little square, and after a few discussions on the likelihood of actually getting the 12.08 train, "..Well shall we just go for a coffee." and so we did.
"well.." says dad on leaving." that was a great coffee"
"yes," says I "..its wonderful for taking the edge off the frustration, out of actually getting somewhere!"
Dad chuckled dryly.
we found the station, dad went to buy tickets, my brother is diabetic, and needed to buy lunch. and so we sat waiting for dad. I left them sitting, tucking into lunch. to go find the ladies room. but glancing at the clock, and calculating time for my dad and brother to gather themselves, and to see the distance towards the train.. I "encouraged" them to get a move on! we had 5 minutes before the train left. we, or rather I rushed towards the front, less busy carriages of the train, dad and my brother following. and when the first door tried wouldn't open "IDIOTS" may have escaped my mouth.
We arrived in Cefalu station, and as I was working out that dad would have to walk back up from the beach within the hour to pick mum up. BUT. Mum was already there waiting on the platform! she had left earlier, asked directions in Italian, and walked to the station within twenty minutes. as apposed to our rough hour and half..
she had been sitting in the carriage, had been sitting there for ten minutes already. and saw me passing, waving on the others, dad marching past with bags flapping, and my brother casually sauntering past, checking himself out in the reflection.
this is my family, and its a conundrum of tempo's, all compromising, all adjusting, but all loving.
I look at the tempo's of the birds in the skies, how they all function with different types of grace, speed and mentality. Swifts who never rest, but glide onwards at full speed. pigeons who seem to be the most adaptive birds to their situation, and Aberdeen Seagull who will ruthlessly mug you for a bacon sarnie. They are products of the environments they live in, and so are we. but we are also products of the relations we bare on ourselves and each other. and that's what I find fascinating.
its how I adapt to my family's tempos', and vice versa. but also being quieter, how I remain strong in sense of my own tempo. its a beautiful tension that I am still trying to work out, and come to terms with. I am now quite strong in me, but they shape how I am, but its my own decision as to how far I allow it to shape me and in what way. and I guess that's part of learning to feel balanced.
Seggesta
On the way to the airport, we stopped at Seggesta. Seggesta amazed me. that the ground and stones that crunched under my feet had been walked upon, fought upon 300 years BC. having said that, we didn't go directly to the temple.. we had our lunch in the car park. and besides the car park was a path that we walked up, walking past a sign blown down by the wind, which had likely said, no entry. but to which no enquiry was made. so we saw the ampitheater from afar.. but for me more interesting was the settlement close by. perhaps it's included in the tour... we didn't find out. beside the settlement was a stack of cannonballs, BC-style. if we used those today, no one would be bothered to start wars.
As I left my parents in the airport, a white feather passed by my dads shoulder, and I thought maybe it was angelic help in good relations that week, for which I was grateful.
But as I got onto the plane, I had a very bad feeling about the flight, I went into quiet irrational panic, "We're all going to die... have I had a happy life? what do I most treasure?" these were all thoughts..
first announcement from the cabin crew suggested that since we were and hour from Maastricht, we may want to order extra drinks... a second comment told us that someone was very ill on the flight and we would be diverting to Pisa. its quite unnerving to feel a plane fly so fast you see the engines shaking, kind of like taking my mums old car up the highway. at 90..
on a spiritual note, it hit me, that if white feathers signify something, I need to ask for angelic help in distinguishing different signs. white feathers will appear during moments where love is, but I know that it will begin to panic me if white feathers are associated too many times with someone passing, and so new prayer begins for heightened communication, more specific signs, and more specific discernment.
the ambulance took the old man, but it waited by the plane for an hour. me and the Spanish girl discussed possibilities of what might be happening, an air hostess then told us the man has died. its a very shocking and chilling atmosphere whilst people are stilled in contemplation. This old man had walked on with his wife, planning to go to a destination together... and now the wife is in Pisa, alone. with my Grandad, his deteriorating health meant that as sad as it was, we knew.. but this situation in Pisa, was so sad for the wife. And it hit home hard that life is so so precious, and yet fragile and indefinite. and those moments that we take for granted.. we really shouldn't.
This is one of dads favourite songs from Van Morrison. Warm love.
On a separate, but interesting note, well for those who still have interest..Whilst I was experiencing Sicily, in different corners of the world, David was experiencing Palestine on foot, raising money for the Hope Flowers school in Bethlehem. There are some interesting insights in his blog that may not touch us via western media - I know why the caged bird sings
I don't do this often, needless to say I am not in church so very often. The pastor had given space for people to recall any special stories where they felt God had had affect in their lives that week. Well my story was to process a fortnight, of two halves. I do realise that amounts to two weeks.. but view it then as a fortnight with two tones set within it. If you so wish to join me on this story, then you are much obliged to do this. Stick with it. It gets to the point, I promise.
I was not intending to talk, I never do.. but the first woman gave a story about being reunited with a stolen bike. I wouldn't mind, but I've heard this testimony in church before. and it just made me sigh.. like really? is that what goddy-god is all about in Amsterdam, retrieving stolen bicycles to their rightful owners? A noble cause, but surely there is more to be done than police the (lack of) bike situation. Normally when i have a bit of stomp about such likes, I have this pressure come over me, a sort of spiritual kick up the ass. The result is me reacting proactively, something that doesn't always feel natural, or willing. And so when i did reach the microphone, I immediately explained that I am not very christian. I don't act in a typically christian manner towards God. I stomp my feet, and i swear at him without this "God fearing" attitude that some seem to advertise themselves as on dating sites. And because of this, sometimes the honesty i get back from the universe can be equally as true in character and raw, and i like it that way.
So, I was able to recount, what i had told a friend was without doubt one of the most special, and most wonderful weeks of my life. I described my uproot from Breda last year, and finding a room in Utrecht, that through some funny way I made connection with some inspiring poets and spoken word artists. And that one imparticular had really looked after me last year. Knowing that I could not afford so many luxuries, I would receive emails "are you going to the poetry event? your name is already on the list". How can you repay kindness?
What I didn't manage to recount, and it was maybe due to a hesitance of a non-christian talking to Christians, was the transition from Utrecht to Amsterdam. I had a choice, to go with trial period as a nanny in Utrecht, or to go for an interview/trial day working with horses. Next to music, another passion is horses. I was really over thinking all the possibilities in the possibilities in the possibilities. The pros and the cons, the pros and cons of the pros, the pros and cons of the cons, and so on. I already knew that god was working through the people that had helped me already. And within myself i have to stop myself from asking constantly, OK I see a pattern of people coming into my life, but why? for what reason? whats it going to conclude to? I have met some people who look at others in terms of there own gain, i DO NOT view it this way, I enjoy people, but my reasoning, is that I will always be affected and affect those who come into my life, and the curiosity lies in the how, and the why. Its the temptation to look at the last page of book as you just begin, and i sometimes still do that. For those "oh no you don'ts" - bite me. So back to the story, in the last evening in the Utrecht hostel, I prayed in return for relaxing and accepting what would come next. God please give me clarity.
The next morning, I woke and played some of my friends piano music, relaxed, and enjoyed its euphoria. And what seemed an endless list of clear, logical suggestions on what next to do, filled my head. The only problem was, the fecking clarity was for someone else. I was not very impressed. The guy who i had been talking to the day before, saluted me at breakfast, I think perhaps noted my less than enthusiastic morning face. Pulled a hippy sort of dance and said "... did you have a vision or something?".
"No. But i have words." I related the suggestions of what he should do to focus HIS career, and sighed.
"Well, really, thank you so much for thinking of me." With a smile.
The interview was the next day, and i was still, well. perplexed. Then via facebook, I saw a flier for free theatre in Amsterdam. Ok, Goddy-god, since you are not giving me a direct decision. I'm going to go finish up things, and take a train to Amsterdam. See some theatre, and not cancel the interview at the manege. There was then a bit of an untimely skype meeting with mum, who called as i was getting organised. She gave me a list of "But! Have you considered(s)".
"Sorry mum, but the battery is running low, and i really have to go for the train."
One should never really fear closing the laptop on their mother on such occaisions. Suffice to say, there was a text message full of question marks to follow. And so i wracked my brain for possibilies to calm her. Its based on my sisters advice as a student. "..you don't need to follow your plan, but aslong as mum thinks you've got one."
"Mum, it will be ok. I'm staying at a Christian hostel."
Once in Amsterdam, I was invited to a second evening where my spoken word friend was performing. Its called Dag van Empathie, and the aim is to encourage cultural togetherness. It happens on the 3rd of May, this year also in Mozes en Aäronkerk I found it so inspiring to hear stories from different backgrounds. And also from a Jewish Rabi, who talked about how we can move on from difficult pasts. Some music was played, and I took time to look at the beautiful art, which felt spiritual to me. (I was later told by a christian friend, that the Mozes en Aäronkerk is a mosque. it makes no difference to me. It felt spiritual enough for me to exasperate , "God, what. do. you. want me to do??". I was so tired of thinking about possibilities, I just needed a sign, that and/or a lot of patience. (More information can be found about Dag Van Empathie on Facebook).
Throughout the last year, I received so much support from friends, both brotherly, and inspirational, and that grandparent sort of nurturing, that its a constant thought as to how i can repay kindness. And in this first week, two friends, both of great support to me, but unknown to each other, united and discussed plans of creating something really special. It was so beautiful to see those moments where you know absolutely one hundred percent that something wonderful is being envisioned by them both. And as time goes on, i will let you know exactly what this is. But that now becomes their story, and i smile as i think about it building.
The following evening, i received an invitation by a musical friend, in fact he had been the one i was meeting at the open poetry night, where i met the spoken word girl (and so here, is a hint towards a whole iceberg of connectedness!). I had the opportunity to go and watch a debut of a new album being worked upon. It was also being worked on with a lot of honour and emotion. And all of a sudden it struck me, that all of these connections, sewn together to create and inspire, were being developed even whilst i fretted over which way to go, whilst i lacked faith in what was being created, it was still being created. I would of course like to be in credit of it all, and take decisions that will give me great advantage, but taking time to step back and look at the patterns arising through travelling from one Dutch city to another. Something wonderful was being created around me, and it was created by something much greater than i can completely concieve.
To conclude the wonderful week, I am going to quickly introduce you to an older couple that i clean for. A cleaning job is an even more wonderful employment, if you have opportunity to laugh, and join intellectually stimulating discussion with your employers. This couple will, I am sure have their own stories, and humour to relate. But to conclude this week, with homemade Dutch chicken soup, and sparkly water in a wine glass, whilst looking over the old Gein canal, well it makes an exceptional week even more special.
The second part of the story, actually runs over. And has given me much more learning than at the time i could relay to the christians. Sometimes it is utterly heart sinking to watch a friend sink into a dark chaos, despite showing support again, and again, and again. In some ways it makes me so sad to see, I can see the reasons why something as ammounted to a situation, why some situations become so desperate that a friend could feel so recklace with their own life. It makes me very sad, and as a result of course i want to show my support. No man is alone. My dad always says that when hillwalking, to walk at the speed of the slowest walker, so should that be seen in life too? This is a path where i have definately appreciated where i can show support, the direction of the path is ultimately at the decision of the walker, and respect ultimately has to be given to that, no matter how difficult it may be.
As I stepped out of the church, fairly amazed that i'd been there to show insight unintended. I had no expectation that life still had to show me some lessons in this area. I overthink things, I see the what ifs in the the what ifs. I dont play chess, but sometimes life feels like chess to me. which move to make?
Photograph- Jonathan Oldam Photography (Amsterdam)
The weather this week in Amsterdam has been appaulling, and some part of me was still very worried about the friend, what was best to do, what should i do? And so one errand was made on his behalf, part of me had already decided that this would be the last. I care for him, but we are makers of our own mess, and i am not there to clean everything up. I have an ex boyfriend who was very sensitive to his environment. I was never in tune like he was, but it was fascinating in some respects. We all have different ways of learning, and I've said this to some book-hardy christian friends, I am never going to sit down and retain everything i read, and believe it. I am never going to listen with full concentration in class, but show me something where i can learn hands on, and it sinks in as acceptable. So cycling through the wind and snow, and fulfilling this errand, something in my being felt completely, this is the line now. No more struggle towards cleaning a mess, where he doesn't make effort himself.
And to enforce this point. I decided to find some beads in which to make jewellery. And i found myself by the hippyshop. I go there sometimes because I feel balance in my energy from the stones that they sell. There was a lady doing Angel readings, and for some reason, it felt right to ask. Not in desperation, but really it felt like a time out moment, OK... lets evaluate the current situation. Without going into details of everything, the main card that fell out of the pack, shouted the point of it all. Shut up. take time to chill. "God is in Control". ..."please remember that". I had to laugh. whether this challenges your comfort in reading or not. For me aside from the obvious, it confirms my last theory in this blog. Its a theory that's building, but this is what I have so far..
The theory is so far.. that God doesn't just work through Christianity, and Christians trying to work out how to develop their own concepts of christian values. Don't get me wrong, I do believe and respect that Jesus existed, and had a special path to take. But my thought is this, and remains this. If all the written scriptures in the world, regardless of religion. If all the scriptures that are held onto so dearly as truth were burned. Then surely God would still want to reach us?
I really do not think that he is standing on a pedestal saying, well luvvies, to be close to me, or within me, you can only go through a certain route. Someone who loves, acts in terms of others needs. someone who loves will go beyond their own comfort and boundaries in order to show that. So if an all loving God looks at the current situation, where in an MTV culture not even hiphop(pop) to the masses keeps it real these days. So perhaps it could be that he turns his thought to how to work within those who are not aware of.. or not aware that they are, already working within the love of life. so my perspective here takes a different tangent to how Christians would typically see it as only believers in Christ to be living within Gods love. So how ever you want to call it, the universe/creator/god/life.. has already places blessings and skills within people in order to affect those living life. By using creativity, nature, humour, positivity, music, dance, anything else that causes meaningful affect, well the result is, that it moves people, challenges people, empowers, inspires, heals and uplifts through connecting people and creativity in different ways. I think that I will try write a new blog on this, just to explain my reasoning further.
So through different
ways in the last weeks, my learning has been to realise and celebrate blessings in
life, and whilst being open to feel and act in situations toshow love for others, to remain grounded in
developing self respect, and to fall in love with life. Life is in control, and
I am learning how rest in that, and re-fall in love with it all.
